Journeying through the songs..

Either way I would have come here. Even if there was no treasure or I didn’t happen to know anyone here. It was not exactly a pilgrimage. This, in fact was an invitation through centuries.” Come to Thiruvananthapuram today “is what he had told. He changed my perception of God. He was a mystic, he was a poet. I looked upon to his songs when I was sitting alone in clinic, when I felt down, sometimes as a routine, and at times to compare with other sufi saints.

 The invitation 

 கெடும்இடராயவேல்லாம் கேசவா என்ன நாளும் 

கொடுவினை  செய்யும் கூற்றின் தமர்களும் குறுகக்கில்லார் 

விடமுடை அரவில் பள்ளி விரும்பினான் சுரும்பலற்றும் 

தடமுடை வயல் அனந்தபுர நகர் புகுதும் இன்றே.

நம்மாழ்வார் 

"Under the venomous hood,
 In fields where drones abuzz,
He beckons to his abode
Ananthapuram is the name,
Death's vassals would dare come,
troubles efface,
Chant 'Kesava" each day, come
hither, to his place.."
Nammazhwar

 Kaveri and bhavani were dry, and hogenakkal was stripped bare of only rocks. Meena wanted to get off to some place to soak in water. Maybe tirparappu, the last time we went there, though in summer, the waterfalls were brimming with abundant clear water and surprisingly less people to jostle there. Unfortunately we discovered the falls only by afternoon and our bus was booked early in the evening. So, we had to make a quick exit. 

I never thought that the falls was so near to Thiruvananthapuram, and another temple very close to it. The songs to reckon written by the same mystic poet, Nammazhwar. The weather was partly cloudy with occasional drizzle, and dark clouds gathering in the horizon. After padmanabhapuram palace and the falls we had come to the temple around 3 pm. We had to wait for quite some time till the nadaithirappu. Adithya was in a playful mood and he was swinging Meena’s pallu and twirling his shirt over his head. We then had an uninvited guide who took us through the temple and its history. Though not exactly deserted, there were very few people for the “opening of the door”. We were amazed at the intricate rosewood carvings of the temple. I had my own share of ecstasy that evening. Life and death are blessings. Let the cycle repeat. I don’t wish to be a zombie attaining “Mukthi”.

தலை  மேல தாளினைகள் தாமரைக்கண் என்னம்மான் 

நிலை பேரான் என் நெஞ்சத்து எப்பொழுதும் எம்பெருமான்.

மலைமாடத்து அரவணை மேல் வட்டாற்றான் மதம் மிக்க 

கொலை யானை மருப்பொசித்தான் குரைகழல்கள் குறுகினமே.

நம்மாழ்வார் 

"Bearing his feet on my crown,

of the lotus eyed one..

Residing over a serpant pedestral,

The lord of tiruvattaar,

Surround by facade rising high,

unflinching, he settled owning me,

and ME,

Acknowledged his claim"

- nammazhwar

another song which  I stumbled upon..by ?Uthradam Thirunal Marthanda Varma translated by K. Shesha Iyer.

" What makes me king?

The gaudy thing,

The diadem I wear?

Not that, indeed, the regal crown

For me whom He has made His own,

The king of Kings, whose lotus feet

upon my head I bear!

They for my crown, those lotus feet!

They make me king!"

We started early through the next morning to trivandrum temple. The temple would be open to the general public after the salutations of the erstwhile Travancore descendants. Though we were talking continuously, this song about beckoning to Trivandrum was ringing in my mind.  Legend says that Nammazhwar never moved from Alwar Tirunagari in tirunelveli district. Here, he has described about tiruvananthapuram, surrounded by the various trees (he mentions about their names), the rivulets and the lapping waves of the sea. Tiruvattar, he says that the lord resides in a temple on a little elevated area, surrounded by high walls. He would have come here, I thought. He would have seen this reclining god and his summon is echoing through centuries.

And when I went near the sanctorium, the reclining lord arose from his slumber, came alive, connecting the songs, the mystic poet and his invitation to meet him.

NB: photographs of tvm were all lost since my cellphone software got corrupted. Those which were remaining  were sent immediately to my friend and retrieved later on.

A book and some thoughts..

"Do you have elective cases lined up for this week?” my friend asked. "Why?no!" I answered as he was driving towards medical college after our lunch. "So, why don't you join me for my batch meet in Davangere?"
"Hey S, it's YOUR batch meet, and what am I going to do anyway?"
“Saravana, just come along with me, batch meet is only on Saturday and we will be leaving on Thursday. Let's get out of the routine here. Everything free, food, accommodation and booze. Call up your wife and tell that we are going as examiners there".
I replied “I’ve stopped my stint with alcohol and this is not the time of university exams, moreover I haven't planned anything. Department, home and clinic"
"Fine, I won’t force you to booze. Keep track of bills, drive for us and get to know about my friends. You won't leave this place if you make big plans. Now take your mobile and call Meena."

We started driving towards Davangere on Thursday morning, though I told Meena about the batch meet and asked her to cover-up on behalf of me for my parents citing exams.There was a message from her as we sat for lunch in Davangere. “Good riddance, it’s raining heavily here. Salem wanted you to move away for it to rain".I replied back. “It is raining here too. A welcome rain in my native land!”..

We were, by that time in a bar and restaurant. The unwinding had already started. Davangere is known for good cuisine. I was surprised at their (we were 4 of us who travelled) capacity to down the pegs. Short break in the evening and followed by fresh round of water and food in the night. Old memories retold, trips, failures, (academic as well as those related to heart) teachers and the anxiety of meeting old classmates with their spouses. The food was good and I felt sleepy with all the travelling.

kids trying to avoid my photo in the temple.

The next day morning was spent in going to a nearby temple and church and the college, hostel and library. By afternoon, the sessions started. I was wondering whether this was a sort of escape from not able to drink at home front. I felt a little out of circle that day.  Three more joined us in the evening. Some seemingly having a disturbed personality-Two unmarried and searching for bride at 38 years. One recovered from drugs with great effort from his wife and another still continuing with drugs. The next morning during their actual batch meet , I went off to Hubli to see my friend.

All these were discussed while driving back home with the one who talked a little philosophy. Philosophy was my turf and we had a long discussion. He then admitted that he was divorced after 3 years of marriage and that he went into sort of major depression.

Now, what prompted me to write about the events was the reading of “The catcher in the rye” a novel by J.D.Salinger. The novel was banned several times for its explicit and supposedly demoralizing theme. But then, it is a novel about a youth in his adolescent years trying to cope with a harsh world outside. There is lot of cynicism, bigotry and negative attitude towards life, so much so that I was waiting to finish the seemingly depressive novel. Ultimately the lead character ends up in a rehabilitation centre after a nervous breakdown. It appears that he was desisting his transformation into an adult or maybe he still reveled in his poignant reminder of childhood innocence.
 Once I put down the book, I went into deep thoughts, about my own younger years, and of those people whom I met recently.  Habits which were picked up in medical school had not been curtailed. I don’t intend to be judgmental, but there has to be a period when we need to get along with life. Sometimes the downs lock us for prolonged periods. More disturbingly, I could see such traits in some of my students now and all I can do is just observe.

When it rained a little..

" Things would wait, but time wouldn't" is what Hephzibah had replied me for when I told that I wanted to revive my blog.
I wouldn't let my blog alone. But then, when I sat to write, there was this powercut and I went back to the bed to catch some remaining sleep. There is easily 12-14 hours of power outages in our place.
Things keep getting postponed. It was on my duty-off day, after my 24 hrs duty. Meena insisted on doing some pending work. Everything piled up for this particular day in the week. And, it was long long time since we went to our local temple too. The routine broken by erratic surgical cases or simply listlessness. So, I took the bike to go around the city. Temple, tailor-shop, Tulsi retails, a scan, all packed in the scorching sun.
Suddenly, clouds started gathering and there was a cool breeze. By this time, we had lunch and I was prepared for my little nap. It started raining, the much sought after rains, I stood leaning on the balcony watching the effects of a mighty wind and scanty rains.
There was a sudden beep in my phone. My student had commented."saar, rains".It was ramkrishna who was just as obsessed with rains as I was. Coming from God's own country, he too was missing rains.
 Then, there was another message~" Rain just gave a tiny embrace and went...earth expected a hug! :( ".. and that was poetic and replied with a few of my own, none as emphatic as the first one which triggered me to write.

The clouds, curdled into darkness, was pushed away by the mightier wind.. whose sake does he deny one and provide for another?

When the sky provided less, the earth complained above, with a hiss

The umbrella of cloud, is to protect what?
The soil needs thy sap, to protect all ..

What balm does the sky make, unless the slush covers the broken wounds

  And to top it, my student s little contribution ( I knew about his passion for literature in the introduction class)
"Rain just gave a tiny embrace and left.. earth needed a hug :("

Thank you all, for initiating me to blog again. I did this from phone.. Maybe this works

Ohh. Soul

Does it bear the fragrance of my being?
Of my sins and my life's longing?
Does it count the days of rejoice?
Of lament, repentance and of mere choice?

Does It bear the badge of a Victor?
Or the blemish of a transgressor?
Of richness or of  penury of this world?
Or  carry rewards earned in HIS favour?

Does it fly away or shall go down?
To merge  like a drop in the mighty ocean?
Does it part to meet my master?
Before enslaving into another of HIS notion?

Does it have an eye to see, who came to set my fire?
Why then, do I torment my soul?
When I couldn't even thank the one ,
Who closes my veil?

In search of the " dream"

I was driving the car towards home.
"This hospital building has come out nice!" she exclaimed.
" Yeah! Their Operation theater is busy always. All the while there was this politician who used to swindle them. So they kept low profile. Now that he is behind bars, they renovated the whole building and made it look modern" I replied.
"I too sit in our OP everyday since 2 years and get sick of being idle all day long" she complained
" Don't worry, it is just two years since we started and probably someday we would move into something better" I reassured.
" You told you want to quit practice and go off to Tirumalai after sometime?" she prodded.
" If our destiny is that, we would definitely go, didn't we leave our practice in Bangarpet and come here? Maybe Adhi would take care of our practice later."
She laughed and told " He has other plans. Ask him what he wants to become.?!"
I looked through the mirror. Adhi had slept in the back seat.
Later that evening, I took him in an embrace and asked " Kutti , what do you want to become when you grow 'big'?"
He had a spark in his eyes and told, ' Dad, I want to become an artist'
I knew his penchant for scribbling always, demanding to buy new coloring books and colour pencils. This was a habit which his uncle had triggered.
I told " Why not?, you can become an artist, in fact, you are able to draw beautifully"
He got excited, " Really dad? , I don't want to study, I just want to draw and paint". He told
Now, this became irksome. Though my words were seemingly agreeable to his plans, I thought, he is too  young and another day he may dream different.
With mild disapprovement I told him " You can become an artist kutti ,when you are big, but you have to go to school when you are young".
" OK dad, I will draw a joker for you as a gift" and he wrestled out of me.
After that I started thinking of what I wanted to become when I grew big , definitely not a doctor..;)

A good morning msg to his uncle.

PS . Now he goes for drawing classes two days in a week.
( He has gone to my parent's place for his vacation. I just kept seeing his drawings on Sunday afternoon.)

A joker gift to Dad.

A chasing after the wind...

"Shut up" , I told in a fit of anger. 
I don't remember what came out of my mouth. The others silently watching me seething with anger, for I was known to be quiet and easygoing.
The discomfiture was  brewing in the department for quiet sometime. All subtle ways to lessen the altercations were futile.
There were rules passed, each one were asked to sit in separate out patient rooms, people were allotted to work as different units and I took charge of taming the juniors as well as allowing due respect to senior professors.I myself had to dissociate from mingling casually like before.
But this became a recurring problem, because I was way too young to pass strictures on people who were the age of my medical teachers. I now felt the problem of running a department with two senior women and two junior ladies who had nevertheless started despising each other.
My chamber was already occupied by the seniors and I had to make way for a fresh seat and room. The newly joined professor was promised the chair but I was asked to sign the papers for medical council at the last moment. That might have been a reasons for throwing fresh challenges everyday.
The day I was dragged to a fight because of a trivial matter, I lost my cool and had to confront vehemently.
Later on I felt sad for being rude to seniors and being judgmental towards juniors as well.

The next day I called for a departmental meeting and had to sort out the grievances. Finally, it was inevitable that I had to distance myself from both the parties. But late that evening I had to listen to various versions of the issue from my wife at home thanks to my juniors.

All these happened a month ago. No one threatens to quit their job now, and we make it a habit to sit in a common room for our morning coffee..
Yesterday while I was just leafing the pages of bible which was inside one of the drawers while having coffee, I heard my prof say ' Saravana , have you read the book before?'. I answered in affirmative. Then she told ' Read the chapter on ecclesiastes, I have gained a lot from that'
I read all the 12 chapters and called to tell her that I need more time to read those six pages.
She smiled and told " There is nothing Christian in those chapters, just to make sure that you are not offended by my suggestion,  I knew you would like those chapters "
I felt so small.


Ecl 8
15 So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad...

The race is not to the swift
    or the battle to the strong,
nor does food come to the wise
    or wealth to the brilliant
    or favor to the learned;
but time and chance happen to them all..

Conversing with my Son

We were driving towards Windsor castle. Morning we both had got ready for swimming and then suddenly I had to attend an emergency call. So I promised him to take  for swimming in the evening. 
We both like to swim in the rains much to the disapproval of my better half. The climate was perfect with dark clouds gathering..
While nearing the hotel, puppy had started this. " Daddy, kgf thatha ( my father), appatha ( my mother), tiruchengode thatha ( her father) , avva (her mother), all these people will live with us till what class I go?"
"We can't know puppy, only god will know"
" Why only God knows when they all die , dad?"
" Because if we know that they will die when you are in a particular standard, you will feel sad throughout and even others too will worry thinking of the day they are going to die. God wants us to enjoy life and not to think of the end. That's why he keeps it  discreet."
"Ohh, won't God feel bad when we die?"
I smile and tell " God doesn't feel bad, he feels happy because we return back to him "
" Dad, won't he feel bad if we go back to different Gods?"
"There is only one God puppy"
" Ohh, all go to Vishnu only, isn't it dad?"
" We call him by the name of Vishnu, kutti. Each one has different names for the same God"
I parked the bike and continued the conversation till we reached the billing counter.